I'm Sorry
by JoeiMarie
Summary: Jean finds Marco reading some poems and Marco decides to share.


"Oi Marco! What are you doing?" I asked jumping on his bed where he lay with a tattered book in hand, it was so old the title had even faded from the cover, all I could make out was what looked like the word 'poem'.

"Oh hi Jean! I'm just reading." Marco replied giving me one of his warm smiles and setting the book down.

"That book looks like its been used as a chew toy…" I pick up the book, careful to stick my thumb where Marco left off so his place wasn't lost. "Are they all poems?" I ask sifting through page after page, some were missing, I could tell, and some of the print was even faded out in some parts. How fucking old is this thing?

"Yeah, they are, but their really good. You wanna hear one?" Marco asked excitedly. Now poetry isn't a thing for a manly man like me, but you try saying no to this freckled fucker's excited puppy dog face.

So I swallowed my pride and said, "Sure, I'd love to." I made myself more comfortable, kicking off my boots and taking off my jacket, as he flipped through the pages. I relaxed against the headboard, slightly leaning into Marco's side.

"Here it is!" He said, "Its called Dirge without Music I think, some of the writing faded, I can't even see who the author is." I hummed in response as he cleared his throat and began to read, "I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground. So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:  
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned with lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned." I leaned my head on Marco's shoulder, focusing on the soft comfort of his voice.

"Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you. Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust. A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew, a formula, a phrase remains, —- but the best is lost." I closed my eyes as he continued, his voice lulling me to into a sense of security.

"The answers quick & keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love, they are gone. They have gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.  
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world." That last line was when I realized what the poem was about, at least I thought I did. I focused on the words just in case I missed something.

"Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave, gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;  
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.  
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned."

Marco set the book back in his lap, letting it fall closed as he rested his head on mine, which was still on his shoulder. "Isn't that beautiful?" He asked, his voice still quiet, as if he was trying not to break something.

"But… It's about death." That's all I can say. What could possibly be so beautiful about a poem about death?

"Well yeah," Marco replied, "but that isn't all. It's about how death takes everyone whether they're ready or not, he takes everyone regardless of age, gender, race, no one cheats death.

"But it also shows that just because that's the way life is, that people die, it doesn't mean we have to accept it. See the ones who die are the lucking ones, they're somewhere better, but it's the people they leave that they hurt. It's the people they leave that won't cope with the loss."

I thought for a minute as he laced his fingers with mine, I realized he was right, I haven't lost anything important to me my entire life, quite the opposite I realized. I was blessed, with a loving family, and an extraordinary best friend. I wouldn't be able to cope with the loss. I squeeze Marco's hand. "Death is cruel." I whisper, "I couldn't imagine ever losing someone… Especially you Marco…" I snuggle a little closer to him. The poem was right, Marco's worth more to me than anything, I'd give up every rose in the world to keep him.

"I don't wanna lose you either Jean." He said, "You're my best friend…" He kissed my forehead, "And it'd be a shame to lose a dick like yours."

"MARCO!" I laugh pushing him away from me. "You can't say things like that!" I laugh harder as he tries to pull me back to him. "Jesus, I forget how much of a pervert you are sometimes."

"Your face is so red!" He said laughing and poking my cheek.

"What did you expect!" I shout, but I can't stop the smile that has spread across my face.

He only laughs as he leans in to kiss me, at first I push away, but god damn it when Marco Bodt wants a kiss, he's gunna get a fucking kiss. We pull apart and I rest my head on his shoulder as he holds me and strokes my hair.

We sit there like that, content and simply enjoying one another. I listen to him breathe, and feel his heart beat. I snuggle into his warmth, and trace his spine underneath his shirt, feeling each bump and slope as he shivers. We fall sideways onto his pillow and fall asleep in each others arms, each right before we doze off whispering, "I love you."

I lean against the wall breathing heavily, shit shit shit, what am I gunna do?! I punch the floor in frustration, of all time for my gear to be faulty it has to be now! I hit the floor again, no I'm not going to die here, I'm not! I choke back tears and peek out the window, the titan is to my left, moving slowly towards the house I've hidden in. I look around, and there, there it is, my saving grace, undamaged maneuver gear. I just have to make my way out there and get it off the body.

I don't have time to think, it's now it never, I jump out the window and make a b-line toward the body. I drop next to it trying to undo the straps, but my hands are shaking because I'm panicking. Shit shit this isn't good. A tear falls as I scream in frustration, I can hear the titan's footsteps coming closer.

"Jean calm down!" I hear Marco shout, I look up and he was swinging around the titan distracting it, and he lead it away from me. I silently thank him and finish getting the maneuver gear hooked up. I send a silent prayer for the dead body, I thank him too, if it weren't for his gear, I'd be a goner.  
I run after Marco and the others.

"Hey! Connie, have you seen Marco?" I ask, it was the day after Trost was invaded, and we were starting clean up, I hadn't seen Marco since the day before, when he distracted that titan. I didn't think anything of it though, I mean I hadn't seen Sasha or Reiner till this morning either, so I assumed he was around.

"Naw, I haven't seen him." Connie replied.

"Don't worry Jean, I'm sure he'll show up." Annie said as she turned to walk over to the group we were both assigned to. I nodded and headed over with her. I tried not to look around too much, I didn't want to panic if I didn't see him so I focused on what the leader of the group was saying.

I walked up and down the streets of Trost, a hankerchief covering my mouth, and gloves on, helping pile bodies into carts for burning, we identified the ones we could, and made note. I was getting a little bored listening to the groups chit chat so I wandered down a side street. A body was lying a few feet away, I walked over to see if it was anyone I knew. I wasn't ready for what I saw.

So much blood, his right arm and leg missing, the right side if his face was unrecognizable, but the left…. His eye was dull and glazed over, and freckles, oh god those were definitely freckles… No no, anyone but him, no please… I kneel down to look at his face closer, it's definitely him, I knew that pattern of freckles by heart. I try not to cry, but I can't stop it, the tears are streaming down my face as I grab him, and scream his name as if by some miracle he would answer, as if he would wrap his arms around me and calm me down.

I bury my face in his good shoulder and hold him sobbing, he doesn't smell like him, he doesn't feel like him, I run my hand down his spine, it's crooked in places and bent out if shape, I try to hear him breathe, I try to feel his heart beat, but there's nothing, he's just empty.

By now, I'm screaming, I don't know what, maybe his name, maybe cussing, I don't know. I feel a hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from him.

"Cadet! Get a grip!" The hand pulls harder, but in the end it takes two to pull me off of him kicking and screaming.

More precious was the light in your eyes, than all the roses in the world.

"Do you know his name?" The woman keeping records asks.

"Marco Bodt, graduate of the 104th trainee squad." Annie replies looking down at Marco. The woman walks away, but Annie stays, she whispers,  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."


End file.
